Of Raspberry Jam
by Frayed Misfit
Summary: A little character sketch of Albus Dumbledore, a part of the Rainbow Project.


**Disclaimer: **I am not J.K Rowling and would not even attempt to impersonate her with polyjuice potion. Hence this is not her work.

**Author's note: **This is my second contribution to a collection of character sketches known as the Rainbow Project and is an initiative of the Reviews Lounge; please note that this story is already published as a chapter within 'Rainbow Magic'. I hope that this little fic will contribute to a greater understanding of the greatest wizard.

**Of Raspberry Jam. **

_"Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak."_

Albus reclined in the chair by his office window, a knitting pattern book open on his desk, his gaze sweeping the Hogwart's grounds. His eyes rested on each figure for a slight second, running their name over his tongue, recalling a certain attribute of each, they were all his children.

There was Susan Bones, she liked to nibble on the ends of gingernut biscuits before dunking the rest in her early morning coffee. Her eyes were always curious and never stayed in one place for long.

Ah, and there was Gregory Goyle, he was terribly afraid of the clanking suits of armor that lined the corridors, although Albus knew he would never admit this to anyone. He also had an affinity for purple socks, the reason for which was unknown.

Pomona Sprout was wandering gaily between her greenhouses, a large tin watering can clasped in her hand. She had only ever been in love with her plants, and she loved collecting muggle hats, especially ones with curling ribbons.

There was little Colin Creevy, Albus knew he took his tea white with no sugar, he had said that milk was sweet enough, it was a clever little comment. He also folded his bed sheets back twice before leaving his dormitory.

Placing a struggling chocolate frog in his mouth, Albus pondered the importance of these seemingly mundane aspects of each person. It was what made them all individuals, he also felt extreme pride that they all found something that tickled their fancies, it was these little things that meant so much in a tired and broken world.

_"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."_

Albus let his tears fall onto the moving photograph, it was as if they could wash away the pain he felt whenever he glanced into the depths of the eyes captured there.

His mother smiled back at him, her tight bun forcing lines to appear on the side of her brow, it was as if she could feel his guilt and begged him to remove it. He remembered her love of lemon tarts with a small dollop of cream, he remembered the way she held him when he was a small child and could not understand the ways of world.

His father too was smiling, yet his eyes carried the look of caution. He had gained a valuable lesson from his father's imprisonment, in everything you did, you could not be hasty or rash, these had the ability to cloud ones mind and evoke terrible crimes. Albus recalled his father cooking large stews and casseroles, his apron tied neatly in a bow.

Ariana seemed to be giggling in the photograph and lifted her small hand in a wave; her face portrayed no emotion in which he could grasp her feelings. Yet he was sure of his own feelings for her, mostly he was filled with regret, that he had not spent more time merely knowing her. He could see her fingers tracing rain drops down the window, her empty eyes watching them spiral to their death.

Aberforth had his eyes closed, impenetrable to Albus' provoking thoughts. He has learnt to distance himself from overwhelming desires, content to lead a relatively normal life with his goats and his butterbeer. He could feel Aberforth's laughter when they were children and use to play as equals, brandishing toy wands like swords.

He let his tears fall freely onto his family, cleansing them of his guilt and his despair. Albus sat in darkness, the soft metallic clicks of magical objects his only comfort.

The light above him was thrown into sudden luminosity, he glanced up at Minerva as she approached his bent form. She had brought a tray of steaming soup and a hot tottie. Her face was kind and yet not sympathetic, she too had loved and lost, she could reach his pain without the need to express her pity.

"You only need to remember to turn on the light, remember Albus."

"Yes Minnie, I remember now."

"_It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live."_

Albus pondered his jam cabinet, his eyes dancing between the rainbows of colour on display there.

First there was the blueberry jam, vibrant and sweet and the deepest shade of navy blue, it always smeared neatly onto toast like the night sky crawling across a sunset. Albus quite liked the blueberry jam, it reminded him of open fields and little rivers.

The marmalade was bitter and citric, its tang enlivening an unwary eater, it was best with large quantities of butter and always brought to mind a fleeting friendship or the touch of a hand. Its colour was a deep yellow, reminiscent of laughter and daffodils, Albus disliked the marmalade, it was too complicated and hasty.

Ah and the mint jam, almost jumping into Albus' hand, wanting to be tasted and enjoyed. Its shade was a lively green, confusing the eater into believing horrible things about its content merely because of its colour. The mint jam was actually quite pleasant when used sparingly on the crust of a loaf of bread, Albus enjoyed it as a snack when he was feeling down.

And the raspberry jam, a deep and inviting red. It had a sweet character yet people usually chose strawberry over it, because it also had a little tang, a bitter edge that no one expected. Albus was like the raspberry jam, there was more to him that what met the eye and there always would be.

"Raspberry Jam, Remus?" Albus asked, taking down the jar from its place in the rainbow, turning to face his friend.

_"For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."_

**Another Author's note: **I know this is completely mundane but that is how I see Dumbledore, noticing small things that actually do matter. Please read and review!!


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